


The Skype Meeting

by LulaIsAKitten



Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Genre: Desk Sex, F/M, Merry Month of Masturbation Challenge, Office Sex, mmom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-03 11:07:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24469963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LulaIsAKitten/pseuds/LulaIsAKitten
Summary: Another MMOM offering, dragged from the archives and dusted off.
Relationships: Robin Ellacott/Cormoran Strike
Comments: 12
Kudos: 57
Collections: Merry Month of Masturbation 2020





	The Skype Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> It’s the end of May! So here is the long-ago written Skype Meeting, which had a much ruder working title 😂 and which was much requested after the last offering. I have a Nick piece too, because why leave him out, but I don’t suppose anyone except me wants to read that...

Robin arrived back from tailing Redhead half the afternoon tired and hot. Her blouse clung damply to her, and she was glad she was only wearing a loose summer skirt and flip flops. She climbed the last of the stairs to the office and heaved a sigh of relief as she pushed open the half-glass door.

“Hiya,” she called, moving immediately to the kitchenette for much-needed hydration. She filled the kettle and put it on. There was no answer from Strike’s office. She filled a glass with water and drank it down, enjoying the coolness of the liquid sliding down her throat.

A moment later her phone pinged with an incoming message. She pulled it from her bag. Strike.

**Can’t answer. Conference call with potential new client. Got me to dial in to monthly finance meeting, think they have an embezzler. Boring boring boring.**

Robin smiled and texted back.

**I’ll bring you tea.**

Her phone pinged again as the kettle reached its boil.

**Come take notes? Prob more your thing after Corporate Guy.**

She nodded to herself, assembled two mugs of tea and grabbed her notebook and went through, smiling at Strike and setting his mug in front of him. He started to turn the laptop to face her, but she waved him away. She didn’t need to see, she could hear. She sat down in the chair opposite him with her notebook, pencil poised.

Her phone, on the desk in front of her, pinged again. She reached to pick it up, switching it to silent before she read the message.

**You look like a sexy secretary.**

Robin rolled her eyes at Strike and texted back.

**Not in the office, we agreed.**

She could see he was texting under the desk.

**But I’m boooooored.**

**Try concentrating.**

She saw him snort quietly as he read her message. He typed back.

**No fair. Can’t pull a face at you, they can see me!**

Robin stuck her tongue out at him and crossed her eyes. She could see him trying not to laugh. They can’t see me, she texted back.

He sighed and texted again. **Wish we were in bed. Want to suck that place behind your ear I found last night.**

Robin shivered. They’d not been together long, but already he was finding out things about her body that Matthew hadn’t in ten years. A sudden, vivid memory of how she’d felt when he’d discovered that spot last night surged into her mind, and arousal pulsed in her groin. She shifted on her seat.

He sent her a winking emoji. Then, **You got hot tailing Redhead. Your blouse is clinging in all the right places. Making me horny.**

Robin glanced down at herself and blushed as she realised that her blouse was indeed clinging slightly damply to her bra. She twitched it free but it promptly stuck again. She was still too warm. She gave her partner a mock glare, but knowing he was aroused too was making her more so.

**Are you damp anywhere else?**

Robin winked at him. **Maybe.**

He texted back at once. **Show me.**

Robin looked up at him, her eyebrows climbing up her forehead. **???????** she replied.

He looked at her, smouldering from under his eyebrows, as the next text arrived.

**Put your hand in your knickers and show me.**

Robin grinned at him. She eased her summer skirt up her thighs, slid her hand into her knickers and dipped two fingers into her wetness, then held them up for him to see. Her fingers glistened at him and he gave a faint moan.

Holding his gaze, she stuck the fingers in her mouth and sucked, and he gasped and squirmed in his chair as she had before.

She grinned at him and texted. **You started this.**

His reply was swift. **Now I’m really fucking horny. But so are you, I can see.**

Robin glanced down again and saw that her nipples were standing out stiffly against her damp, clinging blouse. She raised her eyes to his again and gave him her best smouldering sexy look, and pinched her left nipple with her fingers through her blouse, rolling it between finger and thumb, enjoying the pulse of pleasure it sent to her groin. She heard Strike’s breath catch.

Grinning wickedly, she texted him again. **Are you hard?**

She could see him tapping his reply. **Like you wouldn’t believe.**

An impish urge overcame her. She sent one last text, and propped her phone up against the back of the laptop so she could read it. **What should I do next?**

She saw the realisation in his face as he understood what she meant, the shock, the naked arousal, before he hurriedly schooled his features back to “polite interest in a business meeting at which only 10% of the content is relevant to the case”.

**Put your hand back in your knickers.**

The words appeared on the propped-up phone. Robin obeyed, sliding her right hand down below the desk. With her left she lazily circled her hard nipple with the tips of her fingers.

**Stroke yourself slowly.**

Robin ran her fingers gently across her inner lips, sighing a little with pleasure.

**Take your knickers off.**

Robin did as she was bid, wriggling out of them and dropping them to the floor. Strike was watching her now with an intensity she’d rarely seen.

**Rub that moisture into your clit.**

Robin took a shaky breath and did as she was told, sliding her fingers upwards, massaging gently. This game was turning her on just as much as him. She could see the effect she was having on him. Her head dropped back a little, her lips parting and her eyes glazing with pleasure, and she could hear how unsteady his breathing was.

**Fuck Robin that’s making me so horny.**

She gazed back at him, panting silently, her lower lip caught between her teeth now as her fingers circled her clit and pleasure pulsed within her. His eyes were black with desire, boring into hers, moving from her face to where her hand disappeared below the desk, to her stiff nipples and back to her face.

**Slide your fingers inside. Slowly.**

Robin moved her hand back down, slipping two fingers inside herself. She couldn’t help the small groan that escaped her, and she bit down harder on her lower lip. She slid her fingers in and out, slowly. Up until now she’d just been messing about for his pleasure, but this was different. She knew she could come like this; in fact she was a little shocked at how close she was already. It was his eyes, boring into her with an intensity that told her he was imagining it was his fingers inside her just as much as she was.

**I can smell you.**

Robin wasn’t surprised. She’d been warm before; she was far too hot now in the sticky summer air in the office, sweat running off her brow. She could smell her own musky arousal. Strike was shifting in his seat now, rocking his hips infinitesimally in time with the movement of her hand, and she saw him realise and force himself to still. She wondered how clearly the people on the other end of the Skype call could see him.

**Fuck, you smell so good. Faster.**

Robin whimpered a little and picked up the speed. Her palm brushed across her clit as her fingers slid, and real pleasure started to build and coil within her, winding tight like a spring.

**Are you gonna come?**

She whimpered again and nodded, heard him utter a hissed “ _fuck_ ” under his breath.

**Faster. And look at me when you come.**

Robin swallowed, and increased her speed again. Delicious anticipation began to tighten within her. She was so, so close. Her eyes found his, and she saw his desperation as he realised how glazed over she was. Her fingers slid, and her thighs began to tremble.

**God, Robin, I want to be inside you.**

The thought of it tipped her over the edge. Her eyes locked on his, she gave a gasp and then a soft grunt as her orgasm broke, clenching on her fingers, panting and writhing in her chair, never taking her eyes off him.

Gradually she stilled, breathing hard. A sated smile crept across her face. Strike was staring at her, slightly open-mouthed.

**Fuck, Robin, I nearly came too.**

She grinned lazily at him like a Cheshire cat, and slowly brought her soaking fingers up for him to see. He moaned a little and closed his eyes.

She picked up her phone again. **Look at me.**

He glanced back at her and she put her fingers in her mouth once more.

Strike reached out and slammed the laptop shut.

“Fucking hell, come here,” he growled, hauling himself out of his chair, frantically wrestling his straining trousers undone. Grinning, Robin stood and moved to sit on his desk, helping him yank his clothing aside.

“Bloody hell, Cormoran, you’re so _hard_ ,” she whimpered.

“Tell me about it,” he rasped, and grabbed her hips and thrust into her.

Robin gasped. She clung to his shoulders as he rammed into her, grunting with need as he fucked her hard across his desk. She squeezed her muscles around him, clutching at his shoulders with her hands, dragging him down onto her and encouraging his frantic thrusts as he groaned his pleasure into her neck. Within a minute he was coming, hard, slamming against her with a shout and emptying himself into her.

Shuddering and shaking, Strike collapsed on top of her. Robin lay back and grinned at the ceiling as he panted against her ear.

“Fuck, Robin,” he managed at last. “What do you do to me?”

She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed him, and then giggled as the laptop, half underneath her, trilled with a Skype call coming in. Strike levered himself off her with a groan, fumbling his clothing back together, and Robin wriggled away and scooted back round to her side of the desk. Strike dropped back into his chair and opened the laptop.

“Sorry, bit of a connection blip, I think,” he said smoothly. “Back now.”

Robin picked her knickers up off the floor and waved them at him and saw him suppress a grin. He picked up his tea and hid his smirk in it as she pulled the knickers back on, sat down and picked up her notebook and pencil again.


End file.
